


Self-Defined

by joshuaorrizonte



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19743100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshuaorrizonte/pseuds/joshuaorrizonte
Summary: Seven-year-old Asra knows just enough about himself to know that he's not the son his parents think he is- and he's finally ready to tell them that.





	Self-Defined

“... and this is our son, Asra.”

Asra cringed. He didn’t know who his mother was introducing him to; he wasn’t paying attention to that. He focused on one word in that sentence: son.

That wasn’t right and he didn’t know how to tell his parents that. If they’d even listen to him. But he had to, soon. He didn’t want them to think he was lying about who he was. He had to be the one to tell them.

His mother carried on the conversation, paying no attention to him. He looked around, looking for anything to hold his attention- there. A beautiful butterfly. It seemed to be calling to him. He let go of his mother’s hand to go over to it. But even as his fingers went slack, hers tightened. He sighed, looking wistfully as the butterfly took off and fluttered away. Oh well.

His mother knew he had tried to walk away, though. “Asra’s getting restless; we better be going. Thanks for your help, Selasi!”

“It’s no trouble, Aisha. Always a pleasure to offer a helping hand.”

As they walked away, Aisha asked curiously, “What did you see?”

“A butterfly,” Asra answered. “I wanted to go say hi to it. It flew away.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t let you go when we’re in the marketplace. There’s so many ways you could get lost.”

Asra huffed. He knew how to take care of himself. He knew better than to say that to Mom, though. Last time he did, she laughed- and then told him all about a little girl who had gotten lost in the marketplace and snatched by bad men when she realized he was serious.

That had scared him for all of five minutes before he remembered that he was a magician. His father had very sternly told him to listen to his mother, that it was best if he didn’t need to defend himself like that, and that was the last he wanted to hear of it.

Instead, he changed the subject. “Can I talk to you and Dad when we get home?”

Mild concern flirted across Aisha’s face as she glanced down at him. “Is everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I just... I have something to say.”

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I want to tell you both.”

“Alright, dear. Your father should be home by the time we get there.”

Asra faced forward, squaring his little shoulders. That “son” was really the last straw. He didn’t know if they’d listen to him or not, but he had to try.

He went over how he wanted to say it in his head, over and over, distracted. When he nearly walked into a bush, Aisha exclaimed, “Goodness! Are you alright? You must have something very important on your mind. You’re not usually this distracted.”

“It’s very important,” he replied solemnly.

Aisha looked at him in concern. “Well, we’re home now.” As she opened the door, she called for Asra’s father.

Salim came down from the second floor, his hands covered in ink stains. “Welcome home!” he said cheerfully, and then stopped as he saw Asra’s serious little face. “Uh oh. Someone looks unhappy.”

Asra shook his head, taking a deep breath and his father’s hand in his free one. “We need to talk,” he said, pulling them to the living room.

Salim shot a look at Aisha, who shrugged as they let Asra tug them over to the couch. He pushed them gently to sit down, then faced them, hands twisting in his scarf. His mind went blank; his carefully rehearsed words went out of his head. He looked at his parents, looking back at him patiently, expectantly, worried. He took a deep breath. “I-“ And then he stopped. No, no, that sounded wrong. He couldn’t just ask them to stop calling him their son, that would hurt them. He had to explain first.

But how?

Salim’s expression grew more and more worried as the seconds passed. Finally, he spoke: “Whatever you have to say, we’ll listen. We love you. Nothing could change that.”

Uh oh. That was what Dad said when he thought Asra had done something bad but didn’t know what. Maybe he was being bad. He wasn’t sure, but that prompting made him blurt out, “I’m not a boy.”

Silence.

Then, “What?”

That was Mom. He took a deep breath. “I’m not a boy,” he repeated.

Aisha and Salim exchanged looks, eyebrows raised. “Are you a girl, then?” Aisha asked. Asra shook his head.

“Then... what kind of person are you?” Salim asked.

“I’m Asra,” he replied, his expression blank. 

The three of them stared at each other. Finally, Aisha reached out and took Asra's hands. "Honey... Is this about me introducing you as my son?"

He nodded. "I don't like it. I'm not a boy."

"That's fine," she said soothingly. "What do you want me to call you?"

Asra met her gaze, unsure of himself. She was listening. She was paying attention to what he was saying and taking it seriously. A glance at Salim told Asra that his father was taking it just as seriously, listening carefully. "I- I don't know. I didn't think about that yet."

Salim leaned forward. "How about we introduce you to people as our child?" he suggested. "That's correct, isn't it?"

Asra thought about it for only a moment before he nodded. "Yes, yes, that's right. That fits." His shoulders slumped in relief. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand..."

"I'm not sure we do," Aisha said softly, "but we believe what you're telling us. We don't need to understand it to believe it. Come here." She held out her arms, and he went to her, letting her enfold him in an embrace, kissing his curls tenderly. "You are our child. We want you to be comfortable with yourself. That's very important. People may not understand. Don't let them tell you that you're wrong. You're not."

"Thank you," he whispered, as Salim joined in the hug.

* * *

Asra found himself wandering through the palace halls, restlessly. His lover was fast asleep still- or at least they were when he left. They could've very well have woken up and discovered him missing by now. Hopefully not. That just gave him more motivation to wear out his nervous energy and get back. He just couldn't relax. It felt like everything would fall apart the moment he tried. 

He found himself going out to the gardens, to the fountain. He headed down through the veranda, and his steps slowed as he saw two people already at the fountain. He squinted into the darkness, and relaxed as he recognized them. His parents. He was still wary of them, in a way; they were still mostly unknown to him. He stopped just short of calling them strangers; no matter how different they were, they were still his parents. He could still trust them.

With that, he went out to them. They looked up as he approached, ceasing their conversation. "Asra," Salim greeted quietly. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No," Asra replied, his voice just as soft. "It's amazing, really. I was exhausted when we got back from the Devil's realm, but I just can't relax enough to sleep. I see the Devil every time I close my eyes..." He shook his head. "I don't know how I'm supposed to relax after what happened."

Salim and Aisha looked at each other, and then both of them reached for him. They each grabbed a wrist and pulled him down to the lip of the fountain with them. "Sit with us, then," Salim said with a smile. "If I recall correctly, the last real conversation we had before...  _ before _ , you told us something extremely important about yourself. You were only seven last time we had a real talk. You're twenty-seven now. We want to get to know you again."

Asra looked at him, baffled. Then the conversation came back to him, and a blush spread across his face. "Oh. That. You said you didn't understand but that it didn't matter."

"Yes," Aisha replied softly. "We've had a lot of time to think about it. I think we understand it now. But that can't be the only thing you've discovered about yourself in all these years. Tell us about yourself. Please."

He looked from one of them to the other. He  _ was _ advised to reach out and have a conversation... "Alright. Where to begin?"


End file.
